


falling

by jay_jay7712



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_jay7712/pseuds/jay_jay7712
Summary: A new photographer looking for a fresh start catches the eye of the Ticking Time Bomb.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So…I’ve recently become obsessed with NJPW. Especially, Los Ingobernables de Japon. In honor of this new development and Honor Rising recently, have this fic. It’s a tad weird, but so am I, so it works.  
> (Can also be found on Tumblr: jay-fabe7712.tumblr.com)

As Hiromu Takahashi’s screams echoed through the Edion Arena, I winced and removed my camera from my face. It may have been Takahashi’s ankle getting wrenched around by Ryusuke Taguchi, but I began to feel the tingle of a phantom pain in my own left knee. One minute Taguchi had been smiling and cracking jokes as usual, and the next he was unleashing all sorts of unadulterated rage on the retaining IWGP Junior Heavyweight Champion.

One of my fellow photographers raised an eyebrow at my static camera before continuing to snap photos of the ensuing chaos. Although I wanted to avert my eyes from the young man’s pain, I picked my camera back up, zoomed in on his face and continued snapping photos. After all, this was the first steady job I’d had in a while and I didn’t want to mess it up by slacking off. Soon, the artist in me took over and I began moving around the ring to find the best angle to capture the action. 

My decision to move to Japan had been an impulsive one to say the least. After I graduated from college, I was lucky enough to get hired on full-time at the same ad agency I had been interning for my senior year. For three years, I worked hard, did everything I was supposed to and it paid off. I moved from cold-calling angry customers to being the agency’s newly-appointed creative director.

Soon after, I was on the phone catching up with an old friend of mine and I told her about the promotion.

“You did? Then why do you sound like somebody just died?” 

She had laughed off the comment, but I realized she was right. I tried to remember the last time I had been happy. Truly happy. The first thing that had come to mind was a trip I had taken to Japan with friends the summer before my senior year of college. It took me a while to get everything coordinated, but in a matter of months, I was in Japan. It hadn’t been easy and I still didn’t know what I expected to find here, but all I knew was that it was greater than what I had been doing before.

The pounding of Takahashi’s palm against the mat pulled me from my reminiscing. Finally, two of the young lions rushed in to separate the men. The anger drained from Taguchi’s face as soon as his hands were pried from Takahashi’s leg. He addressed the champion once more before hopping out of the ring, a smile on his face but an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

I didn’t have time to analyze his expression any further because suddenly a weight dropped onto me, nearly toppling me over to the floor. I realized it was Takahashi; he had been trying to climb down from the apron on his own to go after Taguchi, but his leg had buckled under the weight. His taped up fingers clutching at my blouse and neck made me glad that I had braided my hair down instead of wearing my customary halo of black curls.

Henare, a young lion who I believed was from New Zealand, glanced between the two of us. For a moment I thought he would help detach the injured man from me, but instead he went over to Takahashi’s left side and supported most of his weight.

“Can you just help me getting him to the back?” Henare asked in a low tone, gesturing to the handful of my blouse in Takahashi’s fist. “It’s easier that way.”

Another young lion named Tomoyuki had gathered Takahashi’s fur coat, leather jacket and championship and was following us up the aisle.

“TAGUCHI!”

The first time Takahashi screamed Taguchi’s name in frustration, I was so startled I nearly dropped him. Henare adjusted his stance and sent me a mild glare over the top of the man’s head. 

“Sorry, but carrying screaming wrestlers isn’t exactly something I’m used to.” I snapped, causing him to return his gaze forward.

Tomoyuki gave Henare some instructions in Japanese that I didn’t quite catch and handed him Takahashi’s belongings.

“We’re dropping him off with the medical staff.” Henare explained and I nodded.

It wasn’t until we were safely backstage that I noticed two things: Takahashi wasn’t screaming anymore and there was something warm and wet resting on the curve of my right shoulder. I looked over to immediately lock eyes with the man in question, whose tongue lolled out as he stared up at me with his chin resting on my arm. When he realized he had my attention, he withdrew his tongue (licking me slightly in the process) and smirked up at me.

Henare glanced over at us with furrowed brows, but focused his attention on navigating the hallways backstage. I did the same, resisting the urge to glance back over at Takahashi, whose eyes I could feel burning holes into the side of my skull.

When we reached the medic’s room, the staff descended on us as we helped Takahashi hoist himself onto the examination table. While Henare sat the injured man’s belongings neatly beside him, I attempted to untangle my arm from Takahashi’s only to have him latch onto my wrist. Hesitantly, I looked over at him and found he was still smirking widely at me. Strands of red and black hair fell over his dark brown eyes, but it still made me squirm looking into them.

“I-I’ve gotta go.” I tapped the camera still dangling from my neck. “I still have a job to do.” 

He held on for a few more seconds before releasing me. 

“Mata aimashō.*” He twiddled his fingers in a semblance of a wave before turning his attention to the medics surrounding him.

I lingered for another couple of seconds until Henare called to me. I blinked, shook my head and jogged out of the room behind him. 

The two of us walked the halls in silence until Henare spoke.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I shrugged. “Just a little caught off guard.”

He nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Ursula.” I held out my hand.

He smiled and shook it. “I’m Henare.” 

“I know,” I smiled and released his hand. “You had a match earlier.”

“That I lost.” He chuckled.

“Winning isn’t everything. It’s the experience that matters.”

His face changed and he laid a hand on my shoulder, the same one Takahashi’s head had been resting on moments ago, and looked into my eyes. 

“Be careful, Ursula.”

“Okay.” I said warily. I had to admit I was a little unnerved by the sudden concern in the eyes of this man I barely knew.

He squeezed my shoulder once before leaving to return to ringside.

I watched him leave as I absent-mindedly rubbed at my wrist, still feeling the warmth of Takahashi’s fingers gripping it tightly.

 

*"We will meet again."


End file.
